Not a Thing
by Draconian Elflord
Summary: A poem from Tsukasa's POV. I'm still not very sure who the poem is directed to. It has to do with all his experience in The World, overshadowed with ugly truth. Very angst, very deep . . . strange. Please tell me what you think. Please R and R, but please


Elflord: *appears out of a gateway* Whoa! It's The World! Just a minute . . . *jumps behind a tree and returns almost immediately in a Mimiru like costume, save for that it's black with red embroideries, is less revealing, and is warrior style instead of the heavy blade* *looks around* Where is everybody? Tsukasa: *appearing through the gate* Who are you? Elflord: *turns around* Why, I'm your authoress of course. Tsukasa: *frowns* An authoress? Do you mean like the programmer? Elflord: *small sweat drop* Well . . . no. Tsukasa: *snigger* Well, I guess you don't mean much, do you? I don't even know why I'm talking to you. You're just like everybody else around here. Elflord: *--*  
  
Hey, before I get any further on this, I really ought to put in the disclaimer. I don't own Tsukasa, the World, .hack, any of the characters, any episodes, or anything else for that matter. Man . . .when did writing disclaimers get so . . . depressing. Oh, and nor do I own the song "Aura", the .hack/SIGN song that inspired me. It's too beautiful to be created by me.  
  
A few more author's notes. I don't take plot as orthodox. I feel that it's best to keep what parts of the plot that support the fic, but do not feel afraid to change other parts of to better support the fic. Please do not flame me for plot reasons. Another thing . . . this poem is written in Tsukasa's POV. However, I really haven't been able to figure out who he is writing to. If you go with my theory, it is something in the area of mother, Aura, the programmers, the awful truth, and The World itself. My best guess is it is a mixture between mother and Aura, but one could make a good argument for them all. Anyways, that's all I have to say. On with the fic *finally*  
  
Not a Thing  
  
Waters . . .  
  
Why you must betray me.  
  
How your traitorous face lies to itself. . .  
  
Because I can't see past you  
  
I can't see the point  
  
Of what I'm supposed to mean.  
  
And you told it me that it didn't matter  
  
That it doesn't mean a thing.  
  
So I laughed and turned away from you  
  
Thinking you the insane ones  
  
Thinking I was somehow beyond you.  
  
But I couldn't find myself anywhere  
  
So I ran away  
  
Ran away from existence.  
  
In the darkest part of the light  
  
In the lightest part of the dark  
  
I found what I thought was salvation.  
  
You said it didn't matter  
  
That it doesn't mean a thing.  
  
And I laughed and turned away  
  
But maybe not so loud  
  
A tear in the smirk  
  
A scream in the silence.  
  
But I couldn't see  
  
What the point was  
  
What I was supposed to mean.  
  
So I ran and ran  
  
And when I ran, I couldn't find myself  
  
Where I thought I should be  
  
Where I saw the silhouettes of you  
  
The shadows of that light.  
  
But that didn't matter  
  
Did it?  
  
It didn't matter to you  
  
That I was crying in the dark.  
  
It didn't mean a thing.  
  
No  
  
It never meant a thing.  
  
So I ran and I ran  
  
And when I ran  
  
I thought I ran from you.  
  
In the dark, in the light  
  
I saw myself  
  
Like I could never be.  
  
In a dream, I heard her whisper  
  
That everything was fine  
  
And it didn't mean a thing.  
  
So I laughed and I cried  
  
When I saw it at last  
  
Because I wanted to believe  
  
I wanted to feel  
  
I wanted to be the way you are  
  
So free  
  
So pure  
  
So amazingly far from here.  
  
You were so far from me,  
  
So far from everything.  
  
So I laughed and I cried  
  
Looking for the mystery  
  
Without any clues.  
  
In the darkest part of the light  
  
In the lightest part of the dark  
  
I reached out for your arms  
  
And fell right through.  
  
And you said it didn't matter  
  
That it didn't mean a thing.  
  
So I fell and I fell  
  
And as I fell I thought I saw you  
  
That it was you who was crying.  
  
But it wasn't you  
  
It was only me  
  
And it didn't mean a thing.  
  
I saw the truth  
  
That broken mirror of truth.  
  
Painted in blacks and blues  
  
A little wax dolly in a box  
  
A little piece of chiseled ice  
  
A little child weeping at your feet.  
  
So I screamed and I screamed  
  
Trying to say it wasn't true  
  
Trying to hold on somehow  
  
Against everything that was dying  
  
Everything killing me.  
  
And you sang it didn't matter  
  
That it didn't mean a thing.  
  
So I fell and I fell  
  
And when at last it all ended  
  
I was still there  
  
In everything I was really was  
  
Broken, crumbled, cold.  
  
So I cried and I cried  
  
But it wasn't any use  
  
Because you wouldn't come hold me  
  
Because it didn't mean a thing.  
  
And now, I'm still standing here  
  
Just a shadow, just a face  
  
Just an empty shell like always  
  
So now I laugh and turn away  
  
For at last I know  
  
What I'm supposed to mean  
  
Because I don't mean a thing  
  
Nothing means a thing  
  
And it never did.  
  
But still I wonder  
  
In this death that is eternal  
  
In this land without a sun:  
  
Nothing means a thing . . .  
  
So what do you mean?  
  
THE END 


End file.
